


Made for each other

by padalelli



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean-approved fluff, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Made For Each Other, Sam Winchester is a moose, Sam gets his soul back, Sam is sorry, apologetic Sam, you and soulless Sam, you as a hunter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 08:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2341346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padalelli/pseuds/padalelli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years after you had stopped hunting with Sam Winchester (when he was soulless), you encounter him again. After messing with the brothers, you determine that Sam doesn't recognize you. But you still want an apology for what he did to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Made for each other

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to try something a little different with my Sam fluff. Hope you like it!!!

You hated him. You never had any particular reason to hate him, but you hated him. You thought something was wrong with him. You couldn't put your finger on it, but something was definitely wrong with him. He never tried to hurt you, he never tried anything with you. In fact, he had saved your ass quite a few times, but he was still a dick about it. And you hated him.   
Now, three years later, you saw him again. You couldn't be positive that it was him because you didn't have the immediate desire to punch him in the face when you saw him. You actually thought he was kind of cute. But you forced yourself not to interact with him. You wanted to avoid him at all costs. Which was going to be impossible considering he and another guy were approaching the pool table you were playing at. His friend came up to you and leaned against the table, smiling. "Hey, sweetheart, mind if we play a game?"  
You shifted your weight and put your hand on your hip. "Actually, I do mind," you said with a thinly southern accent.  
"How 'bout a wager?" he said. "I play you. If I win, you buy me and my brother drinks for the night."  
"And if I win?" you asked.  
"You can decide once that happens. Sound okay?"  
"How about I play your brother," you suggested, embracing the fact that he was here. You wanted to see how long it took him to recognize you.   
"Okay. But let me give you fair warning, he is better than I am. Sammy, come here." That's what made you positive it was him. Sam Winchester. "What's your name?" Dean asked.  
"Quinn," you lied, giving them an alias. Sam didn't seem to notice.   
"Sam, I told Quinn here you'd play pool. For drinks," Dean said.  
"Okay then. Let's see what you got," Sam said, picking up a pool stick. You set the balls in the triangle and give them a roll before lifting it up and letting Sam break. Dean was right about him being good at pool, but you knew you could beat him. After about half an hour, you sink the eight ball into a pocket, claiming your victory.   
"Damn," Dean mumbled. He had been staring at you the whole game. And you were sure it didn't help that you were wearing skinny jeans and a low-cut, scoop neck shirt.   
You sat on the edge of the table, grinning. "Hmmm... what do I want..." you said to yourself. As far as you knew, Sam still hadn't recognized you. "Well, first things first, Dean, my eyes are up here." You pointed to your eyes.  
"Wait, how do you know my name?" Dean asked.  
"Well, that's Sam Winchester, and if you're his brother then you must be Dean," you said.  
"How do you know who we are?" Sam asked, walking around so he could see your face. "Oh shit," he said under his breath. He finally recognized you.  
"What? Sam, who is she?" Dean asked.  
"I knew her a few years ago. Her name isn't Quinn. It's [Y/N]," Sam said.   
"You didn't know me, Sam," you spat. "You worked with me. It's not the same, in case you were wondering."  
"Wait a few years ago, like, when you didn't have your soul, a few years ago?" Dean asked. "How many people did you make hate you?"  
"Well, it was a year, Dean. You can evidently make a lot of people hate you in a year," Sam said.  
"Primarily pretty girls her age? Did you screw all of them?!" Dean asked.  
"Nothing sexual happened between me and Sam," you told Dean. "In fact, he never really laid a finger on me unless he was saving my ass."  
"That's a relief," Sam sighed.   
"Do you not remember?" you asked him.   
"Not really, no. I didn't have my soul. I don't remember much."  
"Wait, so you really were soulless? How'd that happen?" you asked.  
"When you get locked in Satan's cage and come back, you might be missing a few things," Dean said.   
"Like your soul." You nodded.  
"What did I do if I didn't...?" Sam asked.  
"You were actually pretty nice. At least in your actions. Your words, however... Well, let's just say you insulted me pretty brutally considering I never did anything to wrong you," you said.   
"Oh, god, what did I say?" Sam asked.   
"You... you just called me some names," you told him. You didn't want to get into this with him. At least not in a bar, not in public. You knew you might start crying or yelling or both.  
"[Y/N], I am so sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?"  
"I don't want anything from you Sam. Except an apology," you said.  
"Well, he already gave you one," Dean jumped in.  
"That's not the kind of apology I want, though," you said.  
"Well then what do you want from me?" Sam asked.  
"I want you to apologize for everything you did to me. Not just a blanket apology." You got down from the pool table and threw the stick onto it, leaving the bar.   
*//*  
"What did you do to her?" Dean asked Sam after you left.   
"I don't know, she said I didn't hurt her, so I don't know what I could've done to make her hate me so much," Sam said.   
"Well, she said you called her names, any idea what those were?" Dean asked.  
Suddenly, Castiel appeared behind them. "I can tell you what you called her. But I don't think you'll like hearing it."  
"What did I say?" Sam asked.  
"We should take this outside," Cas said. The brothers nodded and Cas led them to the parking lot. Sam lifted his eyebrows. "Not only did you call her names that included idiot, bitch, and other things of that nature, but you said she was 'genetically predispositioned to rot in Hell, so why [is she] trying so hard to stay alive'."  
"Sam, you didn't," Dean said.  
It all came flooding back to Sam. How all your family members had either been possessed by demons and didn't live through it, or they had made deals, or they lost their lives to Lilith when she was breaking the seals, or to Lucifer when he began the apocalypse. They'd all gone to Hell as far as you knew. And Sam had essentially told you that you were a terrible hunter like the rest of your family and that you should kill yourself so you could see them there.  
"No, no, I couldn't have said that. Even if I didn't have a soul, I never would've said that," Sam said.  
"You did say it, Sam," Cas said. When the brothers blinked, he was gone.  
*//*  
You couldn't drive back home because you'd gone to another bar and got drunk, so you just sat out on the sidewalk until you were feeling better. That's where Castiel found you. "[Y/N]," he said.  
"What?" You had encountered him a couple of times, but you weren't really close to him.  
"Sam doesn't remember what he said to you."  
"Well, that doesn't change the fact that he said it," your words were slightly slurred.   
"I'm aware. But the past is the past, [Y/N]. And he's a different man now."  
"Still looks the same to me," you said.  
"Let me take you home. It isn't safe to be out here this late." Without waiting for a response, Castiel bent down and picked you up, wrapping your arms around his neck. In less than a second, you were in your studio apartment and he was setting you down gently in your bed. You fell asleep immediately.  
The next morning, the knock at your door woke you up and your head was throbbing with a hangover. You ran to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet. You quickly pulled your hair back into a messy bun and brushed your teeth before answering the door. It was Dean. He noticed that you were wearing your clothes from last night and your hair was a mess. "Cas didn't give me someone else's address, did he? Cause you look like you just had a one night stand," Dean said.  
"No, this is my apartment. I fell asleep as soon as I got home and I didn't have time to change before I answered the door. What do you want?" you asked angrily.  
"I heard about what happened with you and Sam. And I'm here to tell you that I know he didn't mean what he said, even without a soul. Obviously, since he never tried to hurt you, or use you for sex, and he saved you several times, he wanted to keep you around. I think he might've had feelings for you when you knew him," Dean said.  
"He didn't have feelings, Dean. He didn't have a soul. He couldn't have felt anything. And like I said, I didn't know him. I worked with him," you said.  
"Well, when you worked with him. I still think that, even without a soul, he felt something for you. Otherwise he would've done a lot more damage to you than he did."  
"Do you know what he said to me?" Your voice cracked at the end.  
"Yes, I know what he said to you. I don't know why he said it. Maybe it was more for him to hear than it was for you to hear," Dean said.  
"What do you mean?" you asked.  
"Maybe he realized he was developing feelings for you and it went against his instincts and he said it to tell himself he shouldn't feel that way and he shouldn't be with you."  
"That doesn't make any sense," you said.  
"It does to me. [Y/N], I've seen Sam in love before. The way he was looking at you last night when you weren't looking... and the way he felt awful about not remembering hurting you... I can tell, he is in deep. He doesn't know it yet because he doesn't consciously remember you, but he is. He really cares about you."  
"Is that supposed to move me, Dean? Because it's not working," you sassed.  
"You're telling me you feel nothing towards him?" Dean said.  
"Of course I feel nothing towards him," you told him.  
"See, I don't believe that," he said.  
"Why? What is so hard to believe about me hating Sam?"  
"Because you're made for each other!"  
"How would you know?! You weren't there when we worked together, you just met me! How could you know anything about 'us'?!" You began to raise your voice and immediately regretted it because of your migraine.  
"I can see it. I can see it in his eyes, and I can see it in your eyes. You may hate him, but you know that he's a different guy now. You know that he has a soul, and you want to find out more about it. You're curious about his humanity now that he's gotten it back."  
You cross your arms and bite your lips. You couldn't deny that you wanted to know more about his character, that you were curious how losing his soul changed him exactly. You also couldn't deny that he could've treated you worse when you knew him three years ago. You also couldn't keep saying 'worked with' instead of 'knew'. And you knew that Dean knew all of this too. "Fine. You're right. Happy?"  
He said he was, but he didn't smile or anything like that.   
"I want to talk to him. Alone. And I expect him to apologize for what he said to me. For everything," you calmly demanded.  
"I'm sure I can arrange that. Is there any particular setting you want this conversation to be in?" Dean asked.  
"The bar," you told him. "Tell him he can meet me back at the bar tonight at five."  
"Okay. I'll relay the message." He left and you closed your door, sliding down to the floor. You looked at your watch and saw that it was half past noon.   
"Are you kidding me?" you asked yourself. You stripped down and took a shower. When you got out, you wrapped a big fluffy towel around yourself and tried to pick out something to wear. You wanted to just throw something on, but you didn't want it to be so random that Sam got the wrong idea. You ended up just going with an old rock band tee covered by a flannel shirt and some jean shorts. You left at a quarter till so you had time to walk to the bar. You packed a silver pocket knife in your back pocket and had a keychain mini-flask filled with holy water on your belt. This was standard for you to walk around with as a hunter. When you got to the bar, you saw that Sam was already there, sitting in a booth off to the side. You went over there and sat across from him. "Anything you want to start off with?" you asked him, leaning back.  
"Yes. I shouldn't have said that you should give up on life and go to Hell with the rest of your family. That was way over the line, and even though I don't remember much of our time together, I'm sure I wasn't pleasant for much of it, and I'm really sorry I made you endure that. Would you be willing to tell me what happened between us three years ago?"  
"Sure. We hunted together for two and a half months. Well, you, me, and one of your cousins, I think. It wasn't that I wasn't a good hunter, it was that you guys always used me as bait. And I didn't really like that. So you always had to save me. After you saved me, you'd get angry at how I screwed up, and you'd say those awful things to me. Your cousin got killed when you went on a hunt that I sat out on. I could tell how stressed you were because you only had me to help. I could also tell you needed to relieve that stress, but you never took it out on me. That's the one thing I'm thankful for. If it even counts as being thankful," you said, looking away from him.   
He looked at you with a facial expression you had never seen before. An expression that was filled with kindness and begging for forgiveness. "I'm so sorry, [Y/N]," he said, leaning forward.  
"Don't worry about it. Dean and Castiel both gave me a big spiel about how you're a different man now and how you deserve to be forgiven," you said.  
"So am I being forgiven?" he asked.  
"I'll think about it. In the meantime, what do you say you buy me a drink for kicking your ass in pool the other night, huh?"  
He smiled, almost chuckled. "I guess I do owe you that," he said. He hailed a waitress and you both ordered drinks, which were quickly served to you. After becoming a little looser and less hesitant to talk to Sam, you actually had a good time with him. You understood what Dean and Castiel meant when they said he was a different person. You knew that they were right. Sam was about as good as it came. At least this version of him was. "Can I walk you home?" he asked when the bar began to get rowdy. It was getting to the end of the night, or at least to the point where all the usuals were drunk, and blatantly drunk at that.  
"Yeah. But don't go getting any ideas," you chuckled. You got up and Sam walked you back to your studio apartment. You stopped outside the building.  
"So am I forgiven?" he asked you again.  
"Yeah," you said quietly, almost too quiet for him to hear. "Yeah, I forgive you," you said, louder this time.  
He smiled. "Good. I hope we cross paths again soon."  
His smile was contagious and you let a smile of your own spread across your lips. "Good night, Sam." You opened the door of the building and went inside, leaving Sam outside. As you walked upstairs to your apartment, you thought about Sam.

Sam began to head back to the motel, but he couldn't stop thinking about you. He wished he had kissed you goodnight, or at least told you he liked you.

You had almost made it to your floor when you decided you had to talk to Sam again, otherwise you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. You quickly went back down the stairs and through the lobby and out of the building.

Sam turned around, determined to kiss you before the night ended. He jogged back to where the two of you had previously stood and said good night, and he bumped into you there.   
You jumped up into his arms and wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. He was shocked at first, but he was quick to return your embrace and your kiss. You kicked your legs up and he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, never letting his lips part from yours. You ran your fingers gently through his hair and kissed Sam more deeply. He pulled his head away and pressed his forehead against yours. "I think I'm in love with you, [Y/N]," he murmured.   
You nodded, smiled, and responded by kissing him again. You didn't know if you were in love with him too, but you knew it was plausible. Dean did say you were made for each other. And he was right.


End file.
